


We'll Always Have Paris

by orphan_account



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-28 01:46:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10063991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Janeway discovers the secret Voyager fanfiction archive, much to Lt. Paris' dismay.





	

**Author's Note:**

> In writing this, I had to do a bit of extensive research on the stupidest of things.
> 
> I went back and re-watched Resolutions, particularly the ancient legend scene, for reasons you’ll understand later, for the sole purpose of finding exactly what she was wearing. I referred to the transcripts for all else.
> 
> I then found the hexadecimal color code for the exact shade she was wearing (if you’re curious, it’s #9999ff.) Then I cross-referenced that with what the colour’s name would be, coming up with the word ‘portage’ which I had decidedly never heard before.
> 
> Am I dedicated, or what?

 

“Lieutenant Paris to the Ready Room.”

 

The Captain’s voice could be equated to liquid steel at that moment, the way it insinuated itself into Tom’s blood and made him shiver. It had a tinge of fire to it, so that it heated him uncomfortably, and he _knew_ he was in for it.

 

But what for? What was it this time? If he was being honest, it could be any number of things. The betting pool, the poker games… he was no stranger to illicit activity.

 

Allowing the voice of reason to surface, at least for now, he merely responded with a meek ‘yes, Ma’am,’ and got up to follow orders. Tom did, however, chance a quick look back at Harry. A look of sympathy was on his face. Tom cringed, pressing the chime to announce his presence to the captain.

 

“Come in, Tom,” he heard, only slightly muffled by the door separating them as it slid open to allow him entry. He stepped inside tentatively, nervously. And for good reason, as he soon discovered.

 

The Captain’s back was to him. She was facing the viewport from her chair, away from her desk. This often meant she had a bombshell to drop, or was about to chew him out. He exhaled and took a seat across from her. As she swiveled to face him, he could see that she held a PADD in her hands. He laced his fingers in his lap and waited for her to start talking.

 

He was not disappointed.

 

“Do you know anything about this, Mr. Paris?” She handed him the PADD, crossing her arms and giving him a glare as soon as it left her possession. He began to read it down and the air rushed out of him in a huff as he did so.

 

What he had in front of him was an index. One he knew all too well.

 

This was the _Voyager_ fanfiction archive.

 

~||-oOo-||~

 

“I’ll take that as a yes, Lieutenant. If you’d like to keep your rank, I suggest you start explaining.”

 

He cleared his throat nervously.

 

“Let me begin, Captain, by apologizing. While I didn’t _create_ this, per se, I did help out with it a good deal and that probably makes me at least partially responsible.”

 

“I’m surprised to see that level of discipline from you, Tom. Thank you.”

 

“When I’m caught, Captain, I’m caught.” She chuckled and shook her head good-naturedly, silently giving him the go-ahead to continue. “Alright, I suppose I’ll start at the beginning.

 

“It started on a really dull day about two years into the journey. By then, everyone already knew I was the guy to turn to if you wanted to get rations… in easier ways…” He colored faintly. “So, Chell and the Delaney sisters came to me and said they’d made a bet. Megan had apparently lost.

 

It didn’t make sense to me until they explained the bet. They had said if one of them could get Neelix to say that something he’d made was disgusting, the other would have to write a fanfiction.”

 

“ _Fanfiction?_ ”

 

“Basically, it’s unprofessional writing. Fiction, written by fans. In this case, it’s lower-decks crewmen writing about the senior staff.” She nodded her understanding. “It’s quite often… explicit, hence the bet. They’d wanted me to find a place to put it where you’d never find it.” He laughed quietly. “Didn’t work, did it?”

 

“If this has been going since year two, I’d say it worked very well indeed. I’m more perceptive than you give me credit for. I know about the pool.”

 

“Of course you do,” he muttered. “May I continue?”

  
“Please.”

 

“So, I titled it the ‘Fanfiction Archive,’ because I was putting it where nobody would see it again. However, one Ensign Harry Kim found it and confronted me about it a couple months later, asking ‘what the hell I was thinking.’ I explained it to him, and he got that look on his face he has when he’s got a bad idea. I know it. I’ve made it too many times not to,” he added with a wink. “Anyway, Harry left rather quickly, and a few days later there was a new work in the Archive. From there, it sort of just picked up and people began posting anonymous fics almost daily. It’s really extensive now! I’ve even written some.”

 

“Do you really think it’s a good idea to tell me that, Lieutenant?”

 

“What protocol am I breaking? It’s good for morale.”

 

“I’m sure writing lewd fiction about your commanding officer is breaking _some_ rule.”

 

“Mine’s not _lewd,_ Captain. I know better than that.”

 

“Do you, now?”

 

“You could look for yourself, if you’re brave. I noticed you didn’t read any of them.”

 

“Why would I read work like this about _myself?_ ”

 

“Some of it’s actually well-written, Captain. Some of this crew could consider work as authors. Just look for the rating if you’re not interested in anything… you know.”

 

“Noted.”

 

“Are you going to punish me?”

  
“Depends on if it’s any good,” she said, a sly smile appearing on her face. “I’ll get back to you.”

 

He grinned, not of his own volition.

 

“Dismissed,” she finished, glancing back down at the PADD.

 

Tom was, to say the least, relieved as he gladly made a swift exit.

 

~||-oOo-||~

 

Captain Janeway’s duty shift was finally over. Since her talk with Tom, she’d had a mountain of reports to dig through before she could even _think_ about going to her quarters and making the transition from Captain to Kathryn.

 

She had welcomed the distraction, though. It gave her something else to think about besides her nearly overwhelming curiosity.

 

As soon as she was able, though, the display had been shut down and most of the PADDS forgotten, save one. That she brought with her as she crossed the bridge with a nod to Chakotay and a brief smile to Paris; he knew exactly where she was going.

 

“Deck three,” she told the ‘lift. The few moments it took to get to her quarters felt like hours. No point in denying - she’d been waiting all day to see what this was about.

 

Kathryn almost wished her hair was still long as she ordered herself a coffee. It always made her feel more relaxed to literally let her hair down.

 

She couldn’t help but wonder if Tom had been telling the truth about his own work, and thus found the highlighted pieces he’d helpfully pointed out to start with. There was also a note:

 

_These are mine. I’ve also made a list of others I thought you’d enjoy._

 

And beneath it were, as promised, two lists. The first all shared the same author, but of course nobody knew his identity but for her. She opened the first link.

_She was flushed, eyes bright, lips slightly parted, hair mussed, but to him she had never looked more beautiful._

 

_“I hope you know I’m not letting this go.”_

 

_“I was counting on it,” she said. The words were a balm to his soul._

 

_“We’ve wasted enough time, Kathryn,” he said, a sense of urgency to his words. She reached up and cupped his cheek, showing him the love in her eyes._

 

_“I’m not going anywhere.”_

 

It took her a moment to figure out what that painful ache in her chest was after reading the final paragraph in what had really been a well-written story. She had to give Tom credit: he was a damned good writer. He had a flair for the depressing, for some reason.

 

This one in particular had managed to make her acutely aware of everything she _knew_ she couldn’t have. Her reasons hadn’t changed a bit.

 

She wiped angrily at her eyes. This was not thinking she could afford. But, oh, how she wanted to be able to…

 

Kathryn supposed the fact that it had affected her this way showed just how damned good Paris was at getting a reaction out of people with his pieces. Or perhaps it had just hit a little too close to home…

 

She noticed now that the works each had a short description along with their ratings. Kathryn searched for something lighter, and easily found it.

 

“Oh, dear me,” she said as she encountered one that advertised itself as a ‘brain-swap’ between herself and Torres.

 

If B’Elanna ever found this, Tom was dead meat.

 

~||-oOo-||~

 

It had been a rather long emotional rollercoaster from there - she’d gone from unstoppable laughter to barely stifled tears.  
  
She’d read some of the other crewmen’s work, too. There was some talent on this ship... but there were some whose grammar mistakes really and truly pissed her off.

 

This had also been informative, because she learned that some people actually still thought she spelled her name ‘Katherine.’

 

Annoying as it was, she couldn’t correct them without their wondering how she knew, so she’d be forced to drop it. That was fine. There were more important things to be concerned with.

 

Damn Paris, anyway. He’d linked her to a piece he had promised another part of, and never finished. But he’d done a hell of a good job getting her interested… he cut off just at the good part.

 

She’d heard that called something before… what was it? A tasteful fade to black.

 

Just when she’d begun to wonder if she wanted that curtain pulled, too.

 

Kathryn composed a message.

 

_To: Lt. Tom Paris_

_From: Capt. Kathryn Janeway_

_Subject: Idiot_

 

_You just had to leave us all hanging, didn’t you Tom?_

 

_I have to give it to you. I enjoyed your work… possibly too much._

 

_I’m hooked, Paris, and you’d better write more before I finish it for you._

 

_~Kathryn_

 

She chuckled, and made sure it’d send when he was off-duty. This was certainly not a message a Captain was sending to her officer. No, this one was between friends.

 

Shaking her head in self-admonishment, Kathryn settled back in her chair with a new cup and pondered.

 

“I wonder who else writes this stuff,” she said to no-one in particular. “Computer, bring up a list of all known authors mentioned in the _Voyager_ Fanfiction Archive and route to this PADD.”

 

A list came up on her screen, and she scrolled through to find that most of the crew were in on this. Interesting.

 

She tapped the first name that came up, ‘XoXo,’ and wondered what organization system was used.

 

‘Winner, Rosebuds 2374, Rosebuds 2375, Best Writer 2375, Best Companion Piece 2373, Best J/C Fic 2373, Best J/C Fic 2374, Best J/C Fic 2375

 

XoXo is well-renowned in the fanfiction community for their excellent portrayals of both Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay. They have won best Janeway/Chakotay piece three years running and currently hold the title of Best Overall Author.’

 

She would be lying if she said she wasn’t intrigued after a biography like that, so she scrolled to their stories just as Paris got back to her.

 

~||-oOo-||~

 

Tom slumped into a chair, finally getting a chance to relax after a long and gruelling shift. The only good point to his day had been _not_ getting chewed out by the captain.

 

Speak of the devil, he was getting a message from her now. He read it through and laughed heartily. She seemed to be enjoying herself. Good, she needed it.

 

He composed a reply, quickly checking it over afterward, and sending it off with another small laugh.

 

_To: Capt. Kathryn Janeway_

_From: Lt. Tom Paris_

_Subject: Sorry!_

 

_I’ve not had any time to work on it, seeing as my captain’s a slavedriver, but I’ll see what I can do._

 

_~Tom_

 

Tom wasn’t expecting a reply soon, so he got to work replicating some dinner. He barely noticed the blinking of his console, but when he did it surprised him. In retrospect, he didn’t know why. The captain was prompt.

 

_To: Lt. Tom Paris_

_From: Capt. Kathryn Janeway_

_Subject: Contests?_

 

_What’re these? Do you people actually compete about who can write these better?_

 

_Also, I’m curious if you know who these usernames equate to. I need to find out one specifically._

 

_~Kathryn_

 

Well, now that was intriguing. She wanted to know the name of one of the writers! He wondered who could possibly hold her attention.

 

_To: Capt. Kathryn Janeway_

_From: Lt. Tom Paris_

_Subject: Hm..._

 

_Depends on who you’re asking about. And yes, of course we have contests. Most of them are about who can write you better. ;)_

 

_~Tom_

 

He didn’t answer her for a good long time, but Tom didn’t mind. Perhaps she’d just found a good one.

 

~||-oOo-||~

 

Kathryn knew she could probably just be speaking to Tom over the comm., but there was something about doing it this way that intrigued her. She didn’t exactly know what it was, though.

 

In between answering Tom, she was slowly making her way through a piece by XoXo that had won the most recent Rosebuds.

 

She wondered if she wanted to know what that term meant.

 

Probably not.

 

Whoever it was, had the character of both herself and Chakotay perfectly. Just like the bio had said.

 

This in particular was about New Earth. It held her interest for one simple reason, which was slowly dawning on her.

 

The level of detail, and accuracy, with which this was written would only be possible if…

 

If they’d actually been there.

 

Hell.

 

She’d thought he’d buried these feelings. It was clear now this was not the case - he’d just found an outlet for them as she had done.

 

If this was any indication of how he’d handle a relationship with her, she’d truly been a prized fool.

 

Double hell.

 

He’d recounted, in exacting detail, what they’d said that day, the one just before the badges went off. The time he’d told her that ancient legend, and they’d linked hands.

 

She was glad it stuck in his memory, just as it had hers.

 

But, in this story, the following events were entirely different.

 

_“Is that really an ancient legend?” There was laughter in her eyes, almost making them dance as she awaited his reply._

 

_“No, but that made it easier to say.” Their hands came together, moving identically as if pulled by some unseen force. Their fingers laced together as a single tear came down her face, eventually breaking free and slightly deepening the light portage of her garment._

 

_“I have no legends for you,” she said. “But I agree with your sentiment.”_

 

_They both seemed afraid to say it, as if that’d make it real somehow. But they both seemed to want that, at the same time._

 

_“What would you do if I kissed you?”_

 

_“I’d kiss you back,” she said, with no hesitation._

 

_“Good enough for me.” He came around the table, sweeping her up into his arms and kissing her almost desperately, trying to convey all his love in one gesture._

 

_“Hm… good enough for me too.” He laughed, and she joined him. It was a sound he’d missed._

 

_“No more protocol. No more parameters. Just us, okay?”_

 

_“Okay. The Captain’s taken an extended vacation… I’m Kathryn, how can I help you?”_

 

_“I can think of a few ways.”_

 

It’s the end that really got her, though.

 

_This is dedicated to Kathryn. For all that might have been if that damned Vulcan had any sense of timing._

 

_I’d have done everything written here if I could._

 

_I love you._

 

She spent a few minutes just staring at the screen, before coming to her senses and slipping on her command tunic once again. She exited her quarters, moving instead to the ones belonging to her XO next door… the name made sense now.

 

Kathryn rang the chime and waited, not letting herself think about it too much. She _couldn’t_ allow herself to be convinced this wasn’t what needed to happen.

 

He answered within moments, looking rather confused, but happy to see her.

 

“Come in,” he said, sensing her distress, and she did, standing by the door until he offered her a seat. “What can I do for you, Captain?”

 

“The Captain’s taken an extended vacation,” she said quietly.

 

It only took him a moment to process her meaning, but when he did his eyes widened and she was sure that if he’d been holding something it would have been dropped.

 

“I should’ve known you would find it,” he said, sinking into a chair across from hers.

 

“What are you thinking?”

 

“You’re probably angry, thinking this is inappropriate and the like.”

 

“And here I thought you knew me so well.”

 

She’d surprised him, she could see that well enough. Today was the right time for the unpredictable.

 

Kathryn stood and walked over to his position, smiling.

  
“I’m Kathryn, how can I help you?”

 

“I can think of a few ways,” he said, seemingly in awe.

 

And when she finally kissed him, it was just as he’d written it. Perfect.

 

~||-oOo-||~

 

Epilogue

 

The next day, on the bridge, Kathryn was still enjoying being unpredictable. She and Chakotay had talked about an excellent way to get Tom back before falling asleep, and now was the time to put it into action.

 

“All hands, this is the Captain,” she said, taking the PADD handed to her by the Commander. “The betting pool concerning myself and the Commander is closed - we are an item as of last night.” she paused, consulting the data in front of her. “Samantha Wildman, please come collect your daughter’s winnings. You can do with them as you see fit. Janeway out.”

 

Chakotay was fairly sure he was the happiest man alive, while Tom was waiting anxiously to see what Janeway would do next. “I never did take you for a matchmaker, Tom,” she said as if she were discussing some unimportant report.

 

“I’m not.”

 

“Oh?” Chakotay laughed. “Then what do you call putting my stories on her recommended list? Coincidence?”

 

“They were good, Sir. They won awards.”

 

“Oh yes they did,” Kathryn said, the tone of her voice shocking most of the bridge crew.

 

“Down, you. We have three more hours of this yet.” She made a show of crossing her arms and tossing a glare his way as she sat back in her chair, drawing snickers from several crewmen.

 

He leaned in close and whispered in her ear: “But for the record, I much prefer your rewards than the formal ones.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“I always did enjoy a good reenactment.”


End file.
